


The Art of Letting Go

by stilessexual



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, and i'll die happy, one day they'll become sassy bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilessexual/pseuds/stilessexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a five minute conversation that should've happened years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> I just really want them to talk. Like a lot. I want Lydia to set down ground rules. I want Stiles to respect them. I want moving on and sassy bffs. I put this up on my tumblr a while back, but I thought I'd share it here.

“Move on,”

“What?” Stiles stuttered, looking up at Lydia. She’d flounced through the library and plopped herself down at the table he’d been attempting to finish his homework at.

“You need to move on,” She muttered, absentmindedly searching through her purse for something. “It’s getting ridiculous,”

“What?” he repeated dumbly, because what the hell do you say to that? She looked up, eyes angry, mouth set in a tense line. 

“You deserve to be happy,” she whispered furious, tossing her purse to the side and invading his personal space in the worst way. “And you are not going to find that with me,”

“We could—

“No,” she cut him off, promptly “No. We couldn’t anything. You can’t find happiness with me; just like I’m sure I can’t find it with you.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? He felt himself exhale roughly. That little sentence, a handful of words, and everything fell apart. It was the punch to the gut; it was the last string being cut. Her face softened, and she tugged the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I should’ve done this years ago,” she whispered, “and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“No,” he croaked, cleared his throat once, twice. He found it to be a lot easier to breathe, a lot easier then he’d expected. “Don’t be sorry, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, “I do. I dragged you along because I liked…I don’t know, I liked being worshipped or something and it wasn’t fair to you.”

“I would’ve given you my world,” he whispered, but there was no fight in his voice, not anymore. He wasn’t fighting for her, he realized, he was letting her go.

“I know,” she replied, smile soft and sad. “I know you would’ve, Stiles.” He sighed, rubbed his suspiciously wet eyes and looked up at her with a small smile.

“I guess this is it, isn’t it?” he asked. He shook his head, laughed, surprised at himself. “Wow, I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear that from you.”

“We could be friends,” and she cringed, probably at the cliché of it.

“Probably, we’d probably be awesome friends.” he replied, smile widening. He collected his books, and put everything in his backpack. He stood up, and looked down at the girl he’d once loved so much he thought he’d burst with it. “Just not yet, probably not for a while. Is that okay?” She raised a perfectly arched brow at him, but the smile at her lips was playful, it was Lydia.

“It’s more than okay,”

“Thanks, Lydia.” He grinned; he leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Thank you, for everything.”

And he walked away.


End file.
